


Baby Fenro?!

by Afanofthings



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, I have no idea what I’m doing, M/M, Mpreg?, No plot whatsoever, Rated teen because I don’t know if pregnancy-type work is safe for general audiences or not, Some Fluff, Some angst, Technically?, This is going to be a train wreck and I already know it, the other characters are mentioned, uhmmm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24025393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afanofthings/pseuds/Afanofthings
Summary: Fenton finds out he is expecting a baby, and Gyro is the (other) father. Only… no one knows about their relationship, otherwise their lives would be jeopardised (meaning that they would be fired and struggle to find jobs elsewhere and have a good income).How will they manage to hide something so big?
Relationships: Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gyro Gearloose
Comments: 11
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction here on this amazing website, so I apologise if the writing is weird or if it seems like I don’t know what I am doing. Because I do not. …Know what I’m doing.
> 
> Also, I am not well versed in the knowledge of how ducks behave when they have eggs… in… them… But I’m fairly certain that it’s not referred to as being pregnant. I’m just going to treat it like an MPreg though (like it technically is), but change a few things about the aspect of it.

“ _Oh, Dios mío, oh, Dios mío, oh, Dios mío…_ ” Fenton muttered as he paced back and forth in the tiny bathroom he was currently in. He had his hands on his head and was tugging on the soft, beige-colored feathers somewhat roughly; pulling a few out every so often. “What am I going to tell Gyro? How will he react? Will he still like me? Will he want to leave me? We’re not even _married_ , yet here I am— _expecting!_ ” He laughed bitterly and slumped down onto the lid of the cream-colored toilet with a sigh of defeat. He slouched and hung his head in his hands. “ _¿Qué voy a hacer?_ ” he whispered in a helpless tone.

He sat up straight when he heard the sound of a door open, then close, followed by someone shouting, “Fenton! You here?” He instantly recognized the voice to be Gyro’s, and a fresh wave of anxiety washed throughout him. It wrapped around his chest and constricted it tightly, making it hard for him to breath; suffocating him. Though he took a deep breath to try and calm himself down before he answered, “J-Just in the bathroom, _mi amor!_ ” he shouted nervously, and he could tell that Gyro would be able to sense his nervousness, which made him even more anxious. He paused all his movements and breathing as he waited for a response. He heard a faint “Okay” from the other bird, then resumed his slouched position and soft mumbling. 

He sighed and stood up after having decided that waiting out in the room was not an option as it only prevented the inevitable. He opened the door and walked soundlessly down the hall and into the small kitchen, where Gyro was standing; hovering over the counter and grumbling quietly to himself. The shorter of the two birds cleared his throat awkwardly; effectively gaining the attention of the other one. 

“Hey,” Gyro muttered in his _I’m-busy-why-are-you-bothering-me_ tone without looking up. Fenton didn’t take any offense to the ‘greeting’, becuase when Gyro was busy thinking or working, he usually just ignored you if you approached him. But Fenton was one of the few people he would respond to (nearly) immediately if you interrupted him, so he was content with the response (to say the least).

“W-What are you up to?” Fenton asked as nonchalantly as he could, cursing himself mentally for the nervous stutter.

“Hmm? Oh—just trying to figure out what to do with this…” His voice trailed off as he picked up whatever was on the counter in front of him and presented it to Fenton. The latter raised an eyebrow and looked at it, then up at the bird holding it, then back down at it; bursting out with laughter just seconds later. Gyro made a confused face, then spoke up in a higher-pitched, very much offended voice, “What? What’s so funny?”

“That is a _jícama!_ I picked one up at the store the other day while I was out! My _Mamá_ used to make this delicious dish with it, and I wanted to share it with you sometime.”

Gyro’s beak twitched, but finally relaxed into a small smile, “Oh.”

“ _Sí._ Now, if you could set down the vegetable down because it is not a for a science project, that would be much appreciated,” Fenton said calmly as he gently took the vegetable from the chicken’s hands.

When Fenton looked up again, he was met with Gyro’s hardened stare, and his happy smile instantly became one of nervousness. He shrunk under the other’s gaze and fiddled with his fingers in a jittery manner. “W-What?” he chuckled nervously, though he knew full-well that the other bird could read him like an open book.

“…Something’s up,” Gyro stated after a moment of utter and deafening silence.

“N-Nothing’s wrong! Who said anything was wrong? Because everything is totally fine! Definitely fine! One hundred and three percent okay! Even though that doesn’t make any mathematical sense—“

“Please, Fenton,” Gyro said when he raised his hand in a gusture for the latter to stop talking. “We both know that I can tell when something is bothering you; so spill. What’s going on?”

Fenton chuckled nervously again and swallowed the lump in his throat. “W-Well… Uhhh… You see…”

“Come on, Cabrera.” Gyro sounded a bit impatient as he tried to coax the other bird into talking smoother. “The sooner you talk, the sooner we don’t have to stand here awk—“

“I’m expecting!” Fenton blurted out, almost shouted. His eyes widened with shock and fear and he clamped a hand over his beak. “ _Dios, oh, Dios…!_ ” he mumbled in a frightened tone. “What have I done… Oh, no…” He looked up, expecting to see Gyro’s face scrunched up in anger and disgust. But instead, there was small, ever-growing smile where he thought the scowl would be. “G-Gyro…?” he asked timidly, scared for what his reaction would be.

“Am I going to be a Father…?” Gyro asked whilst gazing ahead in an almost, hypnotized, daze-like way. His tone was unreadable, which filled Fenton with even more fear.

“Y-Yes…?”

“I’m going to be a Father…”

“Yes…”

“ _I’m_ going to be a little duckling’s… _Father…_ ”

“Gyro, are you okay?” Fenton asked, starting to get worried for a completely different reason now. He was surprised when the chicken quickly ducked down and lifted him into the air, making him let out a little yelp from doing so. “G-Gyro?! What are you doing?!”

“I’m going to be a _Father!_ he shouted excitedly as he spun around in tight circles with Fenton still in his arms.

“P-Please put me down, Gyro!” Fenton squeaked as he clung to the other bird for dear-life.

“Oh, sorry. Here,” he gently set him down and dusted off his shoulders for no apparent reason.

“So… Are you _not_ going to leave me because you’re disgusted with me and hate my guys now?” Fenton asked nervously; still unsure what to take from the reaction so far.

Gyro gasped and placed a white-feathered hand to his heart, “ _Leave_ you? _Hate_ you? What do you take me for?” Fenton opened his mouth to answer the obviously rhetorical question, but Gyro kept talking, so he closed it. “I love you, Fenton. I would never—and I mean _never_ leave you because we’re starting a family—or any reason for that matter. That’s probably one of the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard you say. The thought,” he scoffed in disgust at the idea of leaving the duck, not only because he was expecting, but in general.

“So… You’re not mad at me?” Fenton just wanted to have some type of yes-or-no answer so he could feel a little more at ease about the situation.

Gyro leaned down and pressed his beak to Fenton’s, then pulled back with a grin. “Not at all, Darling,” he purred.

Fenton grinned and threw his arms around the chicken’s neck; peppering kisses all over his face and beak. “ _¡Te quiero tanto, mi amor!_ I’m so thrilled and anxious and terrified and soloctious—but _joyous_ nonetheless!”

Gyro smiled and chuckled lightly as he gently pried his boyfriend off himself, “I’m all of those things as well, Fen. Honestly. And as great as this news is, I need some sort of nutrition right now. I haven’t had anything to eat since that weird bread you made for breakfast and a few pots of coffee.” He paused for a moment, thinking, then spoke up again, “Speaking along the subject… why did you leave work early today?”

“Oh. Because I wasn’t feeling good. _And_ I wanted to check if my suspicions about the egg were correct; and they were! So after the realization of the phenomenal news, I panicked for four hours and twenty three minutes until you arrived home; because I lost track of time from the amount of stress and worrying I did!”

“Oh,” Gyro said; the cheeriness of his tone diminished. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling good?”

“Because you were working on Mr. McDuck’s lastest request for a remarkably difficult invention, and I didn’t want to interrupt you since you were _so close_ to a breakthrough! I knew that whatever was wrong with me wasn’t bad enough where it could be considered fatal, so I figured I’d be safe if I left for a little while to try and spruce myself up! By the way; how’d that go? Did you figure out what the molecular reaction was when the device was exposed to rays of UV and GM light?”

“No… Not yet…”

“I’m sure you’ll get it soon! You’re Gyro Gearloose after all! The smartest scientist in all of Duckburg! And quite possibly the world!”

Gyro smiled halfheartedly at the compliment, but quickly shook himself from his strange mental stupor when his stomach rumbled. “Right. Dinner. I forgot.”

“Ahh, yes. What do you feel like tonight?”

“Check the fridge?”

“Sure!” They both stepped in front of the small, white, boxy-fridge in their shared, cramped apartment and opened it. Fenton reeled back as a cold, overbearing smell wafted into his face and into his nostrils. He almost gagged at the wretched scent and took a few steps back, coughing. “ _Dios mío…_ What is _in_ there?”

“Uhmm…” Gyro held his breath and ducked his head down to scan the shelves quickly. He stood upright and faced the duck, who was still recovering from the blow of the smell. “There is some rotten fruit, spoiled milk by the looks of it, an old can of spilt soda, and a half eaten slice of pizza.”

  
“ _Blagh!_ We need to clean that out.”

“Yeah. But what do you want in the mean time? I already know there’s nothing in the cupboards. At least nothing good enough to be considered filling or healthy.”

“I don’t know… Takeout maybe? I know this great—“ Fenton was interrupted by a _ding_ ing sound, which he made a puzzled face at. Gyro rolled his eyes and took out his cellphone from his pants pocket. He looked at the screen and frowned. “What is it?” Fenton asked cautiously.

“The green child says we are ‘invited to the McDuck Mannor for an exquisite dinner’ some time tonight.”

“Really?! Let’s go! It’s been awhile since we’ve just talked with the others! I’ve been wanting to share this new chemical formula with Huey for a while now anyway. Come on! Let’s go!” Fenton grabbed Gyro’s arm and—quite literally—dragged him out door before the taller bird could protest.

All the while, Gyro’s face was scrunched up in confusion as he mumbled, “How did he even get my _number…?_ ”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenton and Gyro have dinner at the McDuck Manor, and things don’t go entirely as planned…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a lot. And I couldn’t find a decent place to break it up, so… here you go.

After a short walk in the crisp late-August wind, Fenton and Gyro found themselves on the doorstep to the famous McDuck Manor. Fenton shifted his weight on his feet uncomfortably from the nerves that caused his heart rate to spike and breathing to speed up. He didn’t think the idea of coming to the mansion through enough. Nobody knew that him and Gyro—his _coworker_ —were together _or_ that they were expecting. The thought of what Scrooge would do if he found out scared him senseless, because he and Gyro both loved their jobs, and to be fired because of _each other_ would be awful and detrimental to the two of them.

“We’re just colleagues here, r-right? Definitely not partners of thirteen months. What do I refer to you as? Just Dr. Gearloose, right? That sounds right. Surely sounds like something I would call you. Or maybe just Gyro? Oh—should we arrive at different times so they don’t get suspicious? Maybe we should do that…” He slowly turned around and went to take a step away from the door, but Gyro held out a hand and grabbed the collar of Fenton’s light-yellow button-down shirt.

  
“It’ll be fine. Trust me. They may get suspicious of certain seagulls, people, or mailmen—but they know us. So we can just fly under the radar with ease,” Gyro said confidently as he reached forward and knocked on the door. 

Fenton turned back around and stood next to him; swallowing nervously when he heard the sound of someone approaching. He tried to look as calm and nonchalant as possible when the big, luxurious, black door swung open to reveal an expressionless Mrs. Beakley.

She smiled, though, when she glanced between the two birds standing awkwardly on the steps, then opened the door wider; allowing them to walk inside. “Greetings, Gentlemen. I hope the invitation wasn’t too much trouble or that the arrival time wasn’t inconvenient.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Beakley!” Fenton chirped happily as he stepped into the foyer alongside the lean chicken. “The timing couldn’t have been _more_ indefectible!”

“I’m glad. Mr. McDuck was saying that he hasn’t seen you two outside of the lab for a long time, so he figured a nice dinner with the family would be welcomed. And a good way to reconnect once again.”

“ _Gracias_ , Mrs. Beakley. Right, D-Dr. Gearloose? Or, uhmm, Gy… ro?” he chuckled nervously as he elbowed the chicken who had remained silent ever since they had stepped inside the mansion. He only hummed in response and barely nodded his head; looking unimpressed as ever. “Hahaha… ha… Yeah, umm…”

Mrs. Beakley only smiled, then started to walk down one of the many hallways. “This way, Gentlemen,” she called from over her shoulder. Fenton nervously glanced over at Gyro, who simply shrugged and followed the housekeeper.

She stepped up to a pair of doors where much commotion came from behind the pieces of dark brown wood, then swiftly pushed them open. She proceeded to escort the two birds over to two empty chairs that happened to be between Webby and Lena. Gyro sat down beside the overly-excited young duck, and Fenton sat down next to the slightly older one with pink in her white feathers.

“Gyro! Fenton! I’m so glad you were able to make it!” Webby squealed; her fists practically vibrating under her chin.

“Me too. I’m just _roaring_ with enthusiasm,” Gyro deadpanned. He flinched and rubbed his side where Fenton had discreetly elbowed him.

“We’re thrilled to be here! Thank you for the invite, Mr. McDuck!” Fenton said with a quick glance to the head of the table where the oldest duck was sat. 

“It’s my pleasure, lad. Really. And I’m glad that ye both were able to make it—just in time, too.” Just as Scrooge said that, Mrs. Beakley started to bring out trays of food; all covered, of course. Fenton could feel the excitement and anxiety and hunger swirl around in his gut, making an awful, twisted feeling arise. He tried to push it down and ignore it; instead, focusing on the plates of food that were arriving. 

“Mmm, this looks _delicioso…_ ” Fenton said when Mrs. Beakley pulled the lids off of the trays.

“Indeed. This looks _much better_ than takeout,” Gyro muttered quietly, which earned him a light kick to the ankle.

About half way through the meal, Dewey piped up with a startling question directed towards the two inventors at the table, “So when will you two get _marr-ied?_ ” He said it in almost a mocking way, that the words themselves not only set off many alarms in Fenton’s head, but they also kind of offended him. If anything, he should be used to crude insults, name calling, and overall being put into a mix of stereotypes. But every now and then he was hit with something new that made him pause what he was doing and consider uttering the two simple words of “Blathering Blatherskite” to take care of the situation.

Gyro, on the other hand, happened to have been _much_ more offended than Fenton. And it was clear as day—not only to the Latino duck—but to everyone else at the table. The fork he was holding was shaking slightly in his tight grasp, and his cheeks were the same shade of red as Huey’s shirt and cap, though from anger, not embarrassment. His jaw was clenched shut and his teeth grit against each other as his left eye twitched involuntarily. 

“Dewey!” Huey said in a disappointed tone. 

“That was uncalled for, Dewey!” Della said as she shovelled a spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth, making her words sound muffled. “Apologise. _Now._

“What?” he whined and dragged out the vowel in the word. “C’mon; don’t act like you all weren’t thinking it,” he said with a wave of his hand.

“ _Dewey_ ,” Della said, and her tone held much warning to it.

“Okay, okay. Jeez. I’m sorry. …That you both aren’t together and married happily-ever-after!” He slapped a hand over his beak and ran from the table quickly before his brother or mother could get to him.

“Dewford Turbo Dingus Duck McDuck! Get back here and be sincere!” Della shouted as she thundered down the halls after him, her voice quickly fading along with the immense giggling and pounding of footsteps.

“Mom! Come back and be polite!” Huey yelled as he chased after her and out of the room.

“Huey! _You’re_ being impolite by doing that! Don’t do that! Don’t go there!” Webby yelled as she and Lena both ran after the other three. 

Fenton instantly lost his appetite and shrunk back into his seat out of sheer embarrassment and fear. What was he supposed to do now? How could he respond to that? Should everyone just pick up where they left off and act like his and Gyro’s secret wasn’t almost exposed? His head was swimming with worries and thoughts, so much so that he didn’t even notice Gyro was missing until he looked over to his right and saw nothing but an empty chair. He sat up properly and looked around the room. The only ones left at the table were Scrooge, Louie, Donald, and Mrs. Beakley. He gulped and grinned nervously. Where did Gyro go?

He opened his mouth to ask, but Scrooge beat him to it, “I believe he’s outside if you want him, lad. Think he needed to cool down a wee bit,” he said with a warm smile.

“T-Thank you, Mr. McDuck…!” Fenton said as quickly (though he tried to remain polite) jumped from his chair and dashed back to the foyer. He looked around and noticed the front door was slightly ajar. He swallowed thickly and slowly approached it. He pushed it open, expecting it to creak ominously, but it just swung open silently. He peeked outside and scanned the area with squinted eyes. Seeing in the dark was not easy for some, including Fenton. His eyes lit up and his heart rate picked up when he saw a familiar figure sitting on the money fountain in the middle of the driveway. He stepped outside (making sure to close the door properly behind him) and quietly walked up to the seemingly sulking chicken.

“Hello, Fen…” Gyro sighed, though his annoyance wasn’t directed towards the duck.

“H-Hey, Gyro. I just wanted to see if you were okay or not. So… are you? Okay?”

Gyro pondered the question for an long amount of time before he answered, “Not entirely, no.” 

Fenton stepped closer and sat down with him on the rim of the fountain, “What is it, _mi amor?_ What’s bothering you?”

“I just… I don’t like people judging us, you know? And I don’t want them finding out about us because then we’re _screwed!_ And I love my job! But I love _you_ more. And… the comment that the blue one made, about us getting… married… It scares me. I-I don’t know if I’m ready for it, a-and I don’t want to make you wait or have you stressing over it either, and I—“

Fenton leaned forward and hugged Gyro tightly; pouring as much care and affection into the embrace as he physically could. Gyro immediately hugged him back without a second thought and buried his beak into the soft brown feathers of Fenton’s neck. 

“I love you, _mi amor_. If you’re not ready for that, then we don’t have to even think about it, okay? I don’t want you to fret over something that Dewey said. He’s just a kid. And kids say things that they don’t mean _all the time._ Don’t let this eat away at you, _¿sí? Te or os amo;_ and I don’t like to see you worry and stress.” 

Gyro pulled back with an exasperated and over dramatic sigh, “You _do_ know I don’t understand any Spanish, right?” 

Fenton smiled devilishly at him, “ _Sí._ I do.” He leaned up and pecked the other’s beak. “That’s why I love to speak it; because you have _no idea what I’m saying~_ ” 

Gyro playfully rolled his eyes at him, then stood up; pulling the duck up with him. “Okay. We stayed. We ate. Can we leave now?”

“Not yet. We have to _ask_ to leave.” Gyro opened his mouth to object, but Fenton cut him off, “And before you complain, it is considered the _polite_ thing to do. Let’s go. Come on.” 

“Fine…” Gyro reluctantly followed the other bird back inside the Manor and into the eating room, only to find that it was completely empty. “Well,” Gyro started; drawling out the vowel in the word. “Looks like they all left. That usually means the other guests can leave as well.”

“Sush. We’re not leaving without a proper goodbye!” Gyro rolled his eyes again; knowing that once Fenton was determined to do something, there was no stopping him until he accomplished it. Still holding the chicken’s hand, Fenton led them throughout a good deal of the mansion (of course, being polite enough to avoid any areas that were obviously off-limits).

They turned a corner down one of the halls and stopped dead in their tracks. Fenton let out a small squeak of surprise and Gyro stumbled back a few steps; taking Fenton with him. Huey had, _silently,_ rounded the corner and almost walked into them, which would have sent them all down to the finely-carpeted ground. Huey was a bit startled himself, but managed to recover quicker than the other two birds. He glanced between the two; quickly noticing their conjoined hands.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you two holding hands?” the young duckling asked with a ghost of a grin on his face that he tried his best to hide, though he ultimately failed.

Fenton’s eyes widened with realisation and he quickly, and not so subtly, yanked his hand out of the chicken’s own. “W-We weren’t holding hands! It was… it was an experiment! O-On how the body reacts to blood-pumping induced nerves! A-And how _those_ molecules would react to _those_ heated blood cells by grasping onto another body’s limb that is in a similar condition!”

“What he said, just with less stupidity,” Gyro said in a bland and bored tone as he crossed his arms and sighed; desperately trying to ignore the strong urge to reunite his hand with Fenton’s.

Huey eyed the two inventors curiously before an excited smile replaced the mischievous grin that was previously on his features. “Cool! I’m always one for new science tests and theories of how the body will react to newly exposed electrodes and chemical recipes! Let me know what the results are when you get them!” he shouted over his shoulder as he took off down the hallway the two adults were just down.

Fenton watched as the duck clad in red disappeared out of sight before he let out the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. “ _Dios mío…_ I don’t know how much longer we can last without getting exposed…! _This_ —reasons like this are why we stopped coming here together when we started dating. I don’t want to caught… _Dios, oh, Dios…_ ” 

“Don’t worry, Fen. We’ll figure something out. We just have to find Scrooge and—oh, there he his.” Fenton looked up and followed Gyro’s gaze to the end of the hall they were facing, where the shadow of one Scrooge McDuck was dancing about of the creamy-cherry-coloured walls. “That was surprisingly simple.”

“Yeah… A little _too_ simple…”

Gyro sighed and spoke with much sarcasm, “Really? It’s just a shadow; it’s not like it’s going to _come to life_ and _kill_ _us all_.”

Fenton shot him a glare that screamed _‘Do you really not remember The Shadow War?’_ , to which Gyro just shrugged. Fenton groaned and grabbed the chicken’s wrist, then set off down the hall, now paranoid that the shadows would come alive and try to take him away again.

“Relax. Seriously,” Gyro said in reassuring tone, though to anyone who didn’t know him he would have just sounded annoyed. “Even if they _do_ come back, I won’t let them get you this time. I promise.”

Fenton smiled, though he still felt uneasy about the situation. “Thanks, _mi amor._ I love you, too. Now let’s go get our permission to leave,” he said in a determined tone. Gyro chuckled and playfully rolled his eyes as he let the smaller duck continue to pull him down the exasperatingly long halls. 

Once they reached the doorway, they peered inside, only to see Scrooge mimicking battle moves and swinging his cane around violently while standing on top of an ottoman.

Gyro slowly raised a finger in the air and opened his beak to question what was going on, but Fenton shushed him before he had the chance to do so. They watched and listened as Scrooge described, and played out, one of his many daring adventures to the group of children on the couch and floor in front of him. Huey, Louie, and Donald were sitting on the couch, Webby and Lena were sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, and Dewey was standing behind Scrooge trying to predict what move he was about to make and copy it.

Just as the story was reaching it’s climax, Fenton discreetly grabbed Gyro’s hand and silently walked over to the two recliners in the room. He took one for himself and motioned for Gyro to take the other one. The latter shrugged and slumped down into the cushion in a careless heap.

They waited and watched as Scrooge told the grand tale of how he had defeated the great and mighty Dracula Duck in the vampire’s castle in Transylvania. The way the fire from behind him illuminated his figure added an extra eerie and creepy mood to the room that everyone seemed to pick up on. Well, everyone except for Webby; who was bouncing and shaking from excitement.

After the story was finished, and a few questions here and there were answered, Fenton stood up and approached the notorious adventurer and tapped him on the shoulder. Scrooge turned around and smiled when his eyes landed upon the duck, “How can I help you, lad?”

“Oh, we—I just wanted to thank you for dinner. It was _truly_ something spectacular!” Fenton chirped happily; trying his best to hide his nerves.

“Good! I’m glad that ye were able to enjoy it. It was nice to see ye outside of lab again,” the elder duck chuckled.

“Heh… Yeah…” Fenton rubbed the back of his neck nervously and shifted his weight on his feet. He looked back up when a thought popped into his mind. “Why did Louie only send a text to Gyro and not me as well? How did he know that we were together?” Fenton’s eyes widened with fear when he realised what he had said, and thought about how he could have worded it differently so he wouldn’t give him and Gyro away just like that. He opened his beak to try and fix his mistake by rambling, but Scrooge started to reply before he had the chance.

“When I told him to reach out to ye, I had a hunch that you would be together. Besides, it was quicker that way. Oh, and if you’ve come back inside to ask to leave, you’re free to do so.” Scrooge smiled kindly, then left the room to head to his study. Fenton was left standing there with a shocked expression on his face, his beak slightly ajar, and his mind racing. 

“What just happened…?” he mumbled quietly so that no one in the room could hear him. He didn’t have much time to ponder on the encounter because just seconds later, Gyro grabbed the Latino duck’s arm and began to walk him out of the room and back to their shared apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the odd spacing. I don’t know what happened.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhmm, hi, again... Here’s the two-month-late update of chapter three. 
> 
> Boy, I feel like a jerk for waiting this long to post again...
> 
> Sorry if this chapter is kind of absurdly long, I couldn’t find a decent place to split it up without it being too short.

Fenton plopped down onto the scruffy, tattered sofa with a sigh. He and Gyro had just gotten back from McDuck Manor, where they had a lovely dinner, almost got exposed, and listened to one of Scrooge’s many great adventures. To say the two of them were emotionally exhausted would be an understatement. 

  
Gyro sat down on the other side of the couch himself and propped his head up with his hand. “That was too close,” he said after a moment’s silence. “I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“ _Sí_. But we’ve had closer calls,” Fenton said in his usual light tone. “It was risky, but I think it could’ve gone worse.”

Gyro sighed in an exasperated manner. “Yeah, sure, Fen. With you, _anything_ could have gone or been worse.” He stood up and stretched, which was followed by a yawn; scratched an itch on his back, then stalked down the hallway and into the bathroom.

He returned moments later and outstretched a hand to help his boyfriend up from the sinking cushions of their used sofa. “Thanks, _mi amor_ ,” Fenton said through a groan as he stood. He held onto the white-feathered hand and led it into the master (and only) bedroom. He let go of it and quickly switched out of his daytime shirt and into his night shirt; padded over to the bed and climbed under the soft sheets and blankets. Including the handmade blanket that his _Mamá_ made for him a few years back.

He felt the bed weigh down just a bit as Gyro climbed in next to him. He then felt the other bird shift and turn, along with a hand being gently draped across his stomach. “I love you, Gyro,” Fenton whispered into the darkness.

“I love you, too, Fen,” Gyro replied as he placed a small kiss on his boyfriend’s head. He lightly rubbed the spot where his hand was rested. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

Fenton placed a hand on top of Gyro’s and held it. “I can’t wait, either.” He paused for a moment, decided whether or not he should share his opinion about the matter, but ultimately thought it would be best to do so. “What are we going to do when they get here?” His voice had an edge of worry to it.

Gyro didn’t respond immediately; the only sound in the room was their steady breathing and the distant hum of Duckburg traffic, even at the late hour. He hummed in thought, then placed another kiss to Fenton’s head. “I don’t entirely know yet. But we can figure it out. We always have, and we always will.”

Fenton smiled, despite the small seed of concern that planted itself in his gut. He wanted to believe Gyro, but something about the future situation of trying to hide the fact that they had a child seemed next to impossible. And, as risky as it was, part of him didn’t _want_ to hide his baby. He wanted to be able to introduce them to those he cared for and knew; to be able to bring them to work (when they were old enough) and let them explore the scientific wonders that were created and discovered in that lab.

“You’re stressed,” Gyro stated, snapping Fenton out of his spiraling thoughts.

“I—no. I-I’m not. I’m just... tired,” the latter defended, though the words were weak and had no truth behind them, and he knew that the chicken beside him would be able to tell. It was both a blessing and a curse that he was able to read him like an open book, even when it was completely dark out.

Gyro sighed, then shifted so he laid on his back. It was silent in the room again. Fenton was sure that the other bird had fallen asleep, so he tired to blockout his distracting thoughts. Ones that he wold ponder on tomorrow, or later that day? He wasn’t sure if it was still that day or if it had crossed over into the AM’s.

Just when Fenton was almost asleep, Gyro spoke, his tone much more emotional than usual. “I’m worried, too, Fenton. I don’t know what will happen in the future, and I don’t know what to do about it. How to prevent bad things from happening, how to prepare for everything, or even what to expect.” His voice was quiet, just above a whisper, though the room was silent enough so Fenton could hear him clearly. “I’ve never been especially _fond_ of children, you know. What... What if I don’t love _ours?_ And from that, what if they don’t love _me...?_ ”

Fenton rolled over to face the other bird. That was the most fear he had heard in his voice in a very long time, if not ever. Was he really that scared? Fenton snuggled up to him and kissed the side of his beak. “If you are really that worried about not loving them, _mi amor_ , I wouldn’t have anything to fear if I were you.”

“How?” he asked, voice still filled with stress.

“Because if you didn’t love them, even right now, you wouldn’t be scared. But since you are, that means you _do_ care. More than you realize, _amor_. And I know you; you love and care for the ones that you are close to. And believe me when I say that you will be very close with our little one.”

“You really think so?”

“ _Sí_. I do.” He then reached up and gave Gyro a chaste kiss on the beak, then rolled over in a more comfortable position. “Now try to get some rest. We still have work tomorrow.”

“Good night, Fenton.” Gyro said quietly after he snuggled underneath the blankets a bit farther. “Thank you...”

  
“Any time, _mi amor_.”

  
Later the next day in the lab, Gyro was silently tinkering on a small gadget to help upgrade Lil’ Bulb’s performance, and Fenton was drawing up some blueprints that contained minor electrical repairs for the Gizmoduck suit. It was quiet in the room; tranquil, even. Only the faint sounds of mechanical doings and a pencil scratching on a piece of paper could be heard.

  
Fenton’s drawing came to a slow stop after a while. He was finding it hard to concentrate in the silence, as his mind was beginning to drift off and become invested in something other than the work he was trying to accomplish. So he decided that a little noise to bring him back to his working state of mind surely wouldn’t hurt.

  
He stood up from his chair, stretched, and walked over to the small, box-y television that was gifted to them from the Bin (or rather, Fenton found it in a dumpster out back, brought it inside the lab and had Gyro fix it up so it worked good as new once again).

He switched it on and went to go back to his unfinished blueprints, but stopped in his tracks when he heard a very familiar voice emit from the technical box. He turned around, and on the staticky screen was Roxanne Featherly standing just outside of a restaurant somewhere downtown. She looked stressed and uneasy, and there was smoke snaking its way through the windows of the eatery behind her.

“Roxanne Featherly here at one of Duckburg’s finest restaurants, _Chez Platypus_ , to report on what seems to be a robbery gone wrong. There is a fire inside, and—what was that?” She placed a finger to the ear piece in her ear and listened intently to what the person on the other end had to say. Her eyes widened and she brought the microphone back up to her beak. “I just got word that there are still civilians inside that are trapped and can’t get out. Where is Gizmoduck when we need him?”

  
Fenton quickly turned the television off and sprinted for his duffel bag filled with Gizmoduck amor that was beside his now abandoned desk. He grabbed it and hauled it over his shoulder, groaning a bit when he realized how heavy the thing seemed to have gotten since the baby has gotten bigger. He was about to walk over to the elevator, but briskly stopped when he heard his name be called out.

  
“Fenton? Where are you going?” Gyro asked demandingly; hands on his hips as he rose from his chair.

  
“There’s a fire and robbery down at _Chez Platypus_ , civilians are trapped, and they need Gizmoduck to save them!” He didn’t wait for Gyro’s response as he turned back around and made haste for the exit.

  
“Woah, woah, woah— _what?_ ” Gyro dashed ahead and stopped in front of the entry way to the elevator and opened his arms wide so that Fenton would be unable to pass him. “You think you’re about to leave and go fight? No way! Uh-uh.”

  
Fenton suppressed a sigh of frustration for the other bird. “I have to, Gyro—they’re counting on me. On him!” He gestured towards the bag over his shoulder. “I can’t just ignore this. It’s Gizmoduck’s duty to help those in need. No matter who it is, or what the cost.”

  
“And what if that cost is our baby? Hmm? What if you take a blow to the gut, or part of the roof collapses on you?” Gyro asked, his tone had an edged to it from the emotion in his voice. “That suit may be able to protect you from a lot of things, and you have survived many incidents, but you won’t always be able to rush into something without thinking about the consequences. Not just for you, but for them,” he pointed at Fenton’s stomach, though his eyes never left the other bird’s.

  
Fenton opened his beak to defend himself, but closed it when he couldn’t think of anything to rebuttal against the statement that Gyro had made. He had a point; he wouldn’t be able to go on many—if not anymore—missions or rescues as Gizmoduck. Not while the egg hasn’t been laid at least. “So... What do we do? Someone needs to help those people. And if I can’t do it, then who c—“

  
“I will,” Gyro said determinedly. Though a look of regret for saying the words briefly flashed across his face before it disappeared as soon as it came.

  
Fenton was too stunned to even notice the bag over his shoulder be removed by the other bird, as he stood there with his beak open and eyes wide. He finally snapped out of it when he heard the elevator doors close. The last thing he saw of Gyro was a wry smile on his face before he officially vanished out of sight.

  
Fenton sighed as he padded over to his desk to resume his work. “Why do I feel like this won’t end well?”

Gyro was a bit nervous as he rode the elevator up to the main level of the building. He didn’t know where that sudden spark of courage (or rather, stupidity) came from, but he ultimately decided it was for the worse. Yes, helping people was considered a “good deed” and whatnot, and Fenton should not be out saving the day, but that didn’t change his view on the annoying creatures. So he tried to reassure himself that not many people will want to talk with him, or want his autograph, or whatever it was Gizmoduck did that the people loved (other than save them).

  
He was brought back to reality when the metal box he was in stopped moving, and the large, mechanical doors creaked open to reveal the few scattered people throughout the area of the open room going about their business.

  
Gyro was not used to leaving his lab during this time of day, so, naturally, the others there weren’t used to seeing him up there. And as he stepped out of the elevator and into the room, he was convinced all eyes were on him (even though that was far from the truth). He ducked his head and sped up his pace until he burst through the main doors with much force and into the crisp afternoon air.

  
He stopped and looked around, listened for any sign of life anywhere. When he deemed it was quiet, and it was just him outside at the moment, he set down the duffel bag and unzipped it. He hesitated for a moment; unsure if the amor would automatically attach to him or not, seeing as it was programmed for Fenton’s brain as the core processor.

  
“It’s _my_ invention, it was originally made for _me_ , so it has to work.” He tried to convince himself of that, but he ultimately knew that it wasn’t true. He would have to re-wire some things first in order for it to be activated when he said the two activation words.

  
So that’s what he did. He reached into the bag, felt around until he grabbed something that resembled a helmet, and took it out from its confinement. He then pulled out a screwdriver and a simple re-wiring tool he had created for situations such as the one he was in, opened up the helmet and began to work on fixing the one issue as of the moment. He tried to be quick about it, seeing as there was currently a fire and robbers somewhere in the city, and he had to do something about those two problems.

  
Once he finished, he prayed that the minor tinkering had actually done something as he set the helmet back into the bag. He squeezed his eyes shut, held his breath, then uttered the activation words. “Blathering Blatherskite...”

  
There was a pause, so he opened his eyes; doubt and frustration already sinking in. But those feelings quickly dissolved when he heard the familiar whirring sound of machinery starting up, then was almost knocked off his feet from the impact of large chunks of metal forming together around his body.

  
When it was complete, he looked at his arms to see they were covered in white armor. He felt a wash of pride and, dare he say, joy, settle in his chest.

  
He heard a distant scream from somewhere in the city, and the reason as to why he was in the suit at all drifted back into his mind. He activated the suit’s propeller, then took off in a whiz of wind and light that reflected off of the metal. He could see a map of the city in the bottom right corner of his vision, and where the fire was, to which he found a bit confusing because he did not remember installing that feature when he had first created the great Gizmoduck suit.

  
As he approached the restaurant, he saw tall, looming clouds of thick black-gray smoke that emitted from the windows of the building. He also noticed the crowd just outside, that of which included police officers, Roxanne and her crew. He sighed, not looking forward to have to potentially talk to her, but dived downward anyway.

  
He landed in a dramatic, heroic pose between the people and the burning building, then dashed inside to save the ones who were trapped, and to drown out Gizmoduck’s name being called out by some of the people. When he was inside, he tried to not breath in the smoke that seemed to be filtering through the kitchen’s windows and into the room he was in. The dining part of the restaurant seemed to be intact, for the most part. There were a few flipped tables, some smashed glasses and dining wear, but other than that, the majority of the fire was coming from the kitchen.

  
He briefly looked around the room he was in and called out to the ones who were trapped somewhere in there. As he was searching under tables and behind nooks in the walls, a thought occurred to him: why hadn’t the people in there just walked out through the front doors? That’s how he got inside, and there weren’t that many flames—just hot, thick smoke.

  
He heard a weak voice call out for help from inside the kitchen, so he dashed over to it and nearly broke the swinging doors off its hinges from the impact. He scanned the room and saw that the fire was mostly over, and inside, a stove, where he assumed was the cause for this whole ordeal. “Hello? Where are you?” he shouted over the sound of the flames (which were smaller than he thought it was going to be).

  
“O-Over here!” the same voice replied. Gyro looked over in the direction from where he heard the person answer, then made his way in that direction. He called out for them to say something so he could get an idea of where they were, and they did. He followed the voice over to a metal door. He presumed they were inside, so he punched the door as hard as he could. When he retracted his hand, there was a dent where it had been, and a small gap between the frame and the metal itself. He grabbed on to that and pulled. The door came off with surprising ease, and the people inside quickly rushed out.

  
“Thanks, Gizmo _dork!_ ” one of the two people carrying large burlap sacks cackled. They ran out of the kitchen doors and disappeared from Gyro’s line of sight completely.

  
He closed his eyes, sighed, then opened them again. When he did so, he noticed two, small red dots on the map in his visor. He assumed those were the robbers, and it showed that they were just in the other room. _They haven’t left yet...?_ Gyro pondered.

  
He didn’t have time to waste thinking about it though, because there was still a fire continuing to grow the longer he stood there. So he took to action, rushed over to a sink, yanked the faucet out, which caused the water to spray everywhere. He aimed the makeshift hose at the fire and watched as it demolished in front of him.

  
When the fire was out, he punched the windows in the kitchen to let the smoke out, then glided through the doors and into the dining area, where the two burglars were standing. Gyro noticed that the main door wasn’t blocked, but the duo just stood there; conflicted and scared looks on their faces.

Gyro casually rolled up to them; hands on his hips and a scowl on his face like a disappointed parent. The two people avoided his gaze like they were children who knew they were guilty of something, even though they couldn’t see his eyes.

“You know that what you did was wrong, so I don’t need to make some type of punny quip or whatever it is he does...” Gyro said in an annoyed tone. “But you’re going to let me take you outside without a problem. Then the police will take you away, and you will never rob something or someone ever again.” He paused and bent forward in a menacing manner so he loomed over them. “Or so help me I will make _damn sure_ neither of you two will ever walk or breath again. Is that clear?” he said in a deep and dark tone.

The two robbers—who were now on the floor, cowering—briskly nodded their heads in unison.

Gyro smirked; pleased with the outcome of the situation so far. He reached down and picked up the two, brought them outside, then dropped them onto the cement steps that sat just outside of the restaurant. The robbers groaned and wriggled on the ground from the fall.

  
Roxanne approached Gyro, microphone in hand, and a blank expression on her face. “What happened in there Gizmoduck? And why did it take you so long to get here to help? On average you are rather quick about situations like this.” She raised the microphone up to him as high as she could.

  
Gyro didn’t bother to lean down so he was next to the mic, rather stood in a hunched posture. “Well, frankly, I was busy,” he stated in a drab and bored tone. “I found the robbers—here they are; the two robbers, right here,” he then made a weak and halfhearted gesture to the two people on the ground. “Then I put the fire out with water from the sink.”

  
“Well, Gizmoduck, what are your thoughts on these two bad guys? They aren’t beagle boys, so do you think they will try to rob this place again? And if so, will you be more prepared next time?” Roxanne asked.

  
“First off,” Gyro stared in a very much offended tone; his voice going a bit high. “I was _plenty_ prepared this time around, I was just _busy_ with something _else_. Second, I don’t think that they will try to rob this place, or any other place ever again. I am certain on that.”

  
“And why is th—“

  
“Because I told them that I would make sure they wouldn’t ever walk or breath again if they did,” he seethed.

  
Gasps could be heard throughout the group of people, including Roxanne herself. Everyone seemed to have instantly gone quiet, but you could hear the mumbles and whispers and the hushed voices they were using to communicate in.

  
“Is that your tactic, Gizmoduck? To threaten those in the wrong?” Roxanne asked after a moment.

  
“I have more important things I need to be doing instead of wasting away my precious time by answering these mindless and meaningless questions,” Gyro stated as he brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his beak, or as high as the visitor allowed him to reach. “I must be off, so long. Or goodbye. I don’t know what he says, just—bye, or whatever!” He then activated his propeller and left Roxanne and her group in a cloud of dust and smoke.

Back at the lab, a little while after Gyro had left on a whim, Fenton was still sitting at his desk trying to come up with the blueprints for Gizmoduck. His leg bounced up and down in a rhythmic manner as the pencil he used etched away on the blue paper he was using.It was quiet in the large and open room. Almost too quiet—at least for Fenton’s liking. And seeing as Gyro wasn’t there, then what could a little music or TV hurt? Maybe he could listen to a _telenovela_ as he worked.

  
He liked that idea, so he got up and padded over to the television to switch it on. When the machine came to life, and the screen lit up, he was about to change the channel, until he heard Roxanne Featherly mention Gizmoduck.

  
That grasped his attention more than any _telenovela_ would at the moment. He stepped back and viewed what was displayed on the screen. Gizmoduck could be seen strolling into the restaurant that was on fire, then the camera panned back over to Roxanne as soon as he disappeared into the clouds of smoke. “That was Gizmoduck, as you all can see. He just arrived as of the moment, and is about to save the people inside and put out the fire!”

  
Fenton held his breath as he waited for any sign of Gyro to be okay and to return safely. They never discussed it before—mainly because they didn’t have a chance or reason to—but he was scared that Gyro wouldn’t know what to do and get seriously injured. If not killed. Fenton was used to having to deal with rough situations and bad guys. Gyro, to his knowledge, has only ever had limited experience with that sort of thing. The Shadow War included.

  
Fenton shuttered at the memory of the ordeal that took place back then. It felt like so long ago, but in reality, it was only the previous year. And the worse part of that was Scrooge, himself (Gizmoduck), nor anyone else who was allowed with that type of information was able to find her location after all this time. It scared him to think that she might be back, and potentially more powerful than before, and wanting revenge.

  
He blinked a few times to clear his vision (from having been staring off without blinking) and shook his head when he saw something white on the screen out of the corner of his eye. He looked over and watched as Gizmoduck rolled out from the wall of smoke that was just behind the front doors and stood on the steps to the building. He then proceeded to drop the, what Fenton assumed to be burglars, onto the stairs below.

  
He physically flinched and grimaced as he watched them wriggle on the ground and groan. One of them was even holding their back, that of which they landed on. If Fenton was there, he would’ve just sent the two on their merry way over to the police cars that were right there.

  
Roxanne stepped up to the big, white suit of amor that was standing in a slouched position, grimly awaiting the conversation that was about to take place. She asked him the usual question that Fenton frequently received after rescues, like the one on the TV; what had happened inside while he was saving something or someone. But Gyro was also asked as to why he was late to the rescue, which Fenton found a bit abnormal. Though, to be fair, he always showed up to a crime or incident on time (for the most part).

  
He waited and listened for Gyro’s response, which just ended up being a typical Gyro answer; saying that he was “busy” and leaving it at that. Fenton smiled at his boyfriend. He loved that he always sounded so bored with a conversation, because it was part of his personality. And even though he couldn’t see it, Fenton knew that Gyro had at least rolled his eyes once already.

  
He continued to listen as Roxanne asked some more questions, to which Gyro became very offended from. Fenton couldn’t help but chuckle at his partner’s reaction to the question. It was one that he, himself (as Gizmoduck) received on occasion if a rescue didn’t entirely go as planned.

  
He payed closer attention when he heard Gyro say that he was “certain” that the burglars wouldn’t rob the restaurant, let alone another place, ever again. He was curious as to where his confidence was coming from. Usually Fenton was only fairly sure that certain robbers and bad guys wouldn’t try to repeat their wrongdoings again. So why was Gyro so sure of himself?

  
He waited as Roxanne seemed to catch on to the difference in assurance as well and asked Gizmoduck how he knew that the robbers wouldn’t repeat their mistake. Fenton’s jaw dropped when he heard Gyro’s answer to the question, the same one that he interrupted. Gyro had threatened them. He had threatened the burglars’ lives if they were to try and rob some place else.

  
Fenton was shocked. He knew Gyro could be dark at times, but to threaten someone’s life? Okay, well... The longer he thought about it, the less it actually surprised him. Gyro had, at one point, put Fenton’s job as his apprentice on the line. His, Manny’s, and Lil’ Bulb’s, actually. Though both he and the headless man horse had known Lil’ Bulb wasn’t going anywhere.

  
He watched on as Roxanne tried to ask another question, but Gizmoduck ignored her and left instead. The camera followed him until he rounded the corner of a building and was officially out of sight. Then it panned back to Roxanne, who went on to say that Gizmoduck had been acting strange, and even that he sounded like he had a cold.

  
Fenton sighed, switched the television off and walked back over to his desk. “Oh, Gyro... _¿Qué voy a hacer contigo_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deeply apologize for neglecting this story for nearly two months. I was just struggling with thinking of what to write, and what could help make it progress a bit farther.
> 
> I originally jumped headfirst into this without thinking of a thorough plot, and it kind of backfired on me... Still is, in a way. And to all of you who read this when it first was published and have been waiting ever since, I’m sorry.
> 
> I hope that there weren’t any spelling errors, and that you enjoyed this chapter nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh, it feels so cool to see my own work up here…! 
> 
> Uhmm, yeah. There it is; first chapter of a story I hope to continue somewhat smoothly.
> 
> Thank you to anyone who has dared to read it and made it this far.


End file.
